


Green Beans and Chalkboards

by FunkyWashingMachine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aliens, And My Other Wife, Apologies, Autism, Awkwardness, Bonding, Caring, Character Study, Dark, Friendship, Gen, Internal Monologue, Isolation, Loneliness, Nightmares, Survivor Guilt, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, War, my wife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyWashingMachine/pseuds/FunkyWashingMachine
Summary: Acxa and Leifsdottir being autistic at each other on the Atlas





	1. Chapter 1

            Acxa stood approximately 2.5 feet farther away from her than she did from other people, and that was how Ina concluded that she didn't like her.  People tended to keep their distance from things they didn't like, the way Ina kept her distance from green beans and loud chalkboards.  After twenty-six instances in fifteen days, Ina knew it went beyond coincidence, because it was reaching the point of statistical significance.  Acxa liked her approximately 2.5 feet less than she liked everyone else.

            Some people read others through subjective, imprecise ways.  Ina read them through patterns.  And the patterns were suggesting that Acxa didn't like her.  She had observed patterns like this before, such as in the days following the one where she asked Richard to the prom.  Richard was, of course, human, but all her data so far showed that Galra behaved similarly to them.  It was a little disappointing.

            She didn't see why Acxa shouldn't like her.  She liked Acxa just fine.

            Her data led her to conclude that Acxa had an aversion to open spaces, crowds, and conversations louder than eighty decibels.  Ina, too, disliked loud conversations.  They should have been friends.

            Determining when somebody didn't like her was a simple task.  It was just a projection of values.  What was hard was determining why.  Especially when there weren't any logical reasons for it.  She behaved in the ways that her society found acceptable:  she didn't incite violence, she didn't call names, and she even made eye contact sometimes.  But none of these had proved to be fail-safe methods for interacting with people.  As it were, she had about 70% fewer close associates than the average person.

            But she didn't have the fewest close associates of anyone on the Atlas.  That honor belonged to Acxa.

 

* * *

  

            The toothbrushes were standard-issue, and it was expected that you keep your own with your personal belongings.  Ina could tell hers from the others, but since no one else could, they asked her not to leave it in the bathroom.

            If there was only one toothbrush in the bathroom at a time, there should have been no question over its paternity.  But this was among the things her peers found too complicated to remember.  She dealt with it.

            Acxa was already at one of the sinks when she came in with her toothbrush that night.

            She took the one next to her and ran it under the water.  It would take at least eight seconds to get hot.

            "Why do you dislike me?" she said to Acxa.

            Acxa stopped brushing her teeth and looked at her.

            "What?"

            "Why do you dislike me?" Ina said again.

            Acxa wiped her mouth.  "I don't."

            "That statement is not corroborated by your behavior."

            "Uh…"

            "I'm not angry."  That was a thing people liked to hear.  Fortunately, it was true.

            "What makes you think I don't like you?" Acxa said.

            "The fact that you stand an average of 2.5 feet farther away from me than you do from other people."

            "Do you really pay attention to that?"

            "This morning at breakfast you sat three tables away from me even though it was farther away, and also in an open space, which you habitually avoid.  Yesterday you left the training deck nineteen seconds after I came in.  Two days ago you moved to the other side of the hall when we were passing each other.  The day before that-"

            "Okay.  You can stop."

            Ina squeezed out some toothpaste on her brush.  It was impractical to talk while brushing one's teeth.

            "Like you, I also dislike loud conversations.  I think we should be friends."

            Acxa tapped her toothbrush between her fingers.

            "I thought you didn't like me."

            "What data did you collect to make that conclusion?"

            "I don't know," Acxa said.

            "I apologize if I've insulted any customs of your species."

            "Um… thank you."

            "The customs of Earth are also arbitrary and confusing.  I understand if it's been causing you problems."

            "Do I really fit in that badly?"

            "It's hard to say.  I've just never seen you smile."

            "Oh."

            "Is it because you're having a hard time?"

            "Why do you want to talk about that?" Acxa said.

            "Because that's what friends do."

            "Are we friends?"

            "If you want to be."

            Acxa looked at her just a moment.

            "I'm glad don't hate me," she said.

            "I only hate green beans and chalkboards."

            "What about the Galra?"

            Ina put her toothbrush under the water one more time.

            "Some.  But not all."


	2. Chapter 2

            "Acxa.  Wake up."

            Acxa jolted awake.  It was dark and she was breathing fast.

            "Fuck off," she said, hitting the thing that was touching her.

            "Okay."

            It was one of the Earth people.  She was in the barracks, on the Atlas.

            "Wait," she said.  "I didn't mean that."

            "Okay."

            Cadet Leifsdottir.

            "Why did you wake me up?" Acxa said.  Her heart was still pounding.

            "You were sleep talking in a way that indicated distress," Cadet Leifsdottir said.

            "Oh.  I see."

            There was a sound in the dark.  She imagined it was Cadet Leifsdottir sitting down on her bed.

            She really didn't mean to hit her.

            "Who is Narti?" said Cadet Leifsdottir.

            "What?"

            "You were talking about them."

            Acxa sat up and rubbed her eyes.

            "Someone I used to know."

            "What are you so sorry about?"

            She felt cold.

            "Something bad."

            "That is generally what makes people sorry."

            "Generally."

            "But not always," the Earthling said.  "Sometimes it's for trivial things, or something over which you have no control."

            Acxa worried the blanket through her hands.  It was pretty nice as far as blankets went.

            "Did I wake you up?" she asked Cadet Leifsdottir.

            "No.  I was tallying the losses and gains."

            "From the war?"

            "There's no quantifiable value to an individual life," Cadet Leifsdottir said.  "But there are for many physical assets that can save lives.  If you consider the cost of those versus the number of lives that they save, you can approximate the value of a human life."

            "Do you have a number, then?"

            "Somewhere around 4,000 gac."

            "That's not very much."

            "Do you have 4,000 gac?"

            "No."

            There was a rustling sound.  Cadet Leifsdottir was probably getting back under the covers.

            "Do you always do calculations like these?" Acxa said.

            "It helps me fall back asleep."

            "It doesn't scare you?"

            "It's better now that the numbers are improving."

            Acxa pulled the blanket over her shoulders.

            "It costs a lot more to save a life than to take one."

            "That's why I use lives saved as my metric," Leifsdottir said.  "Enthalpy is expensive, but entropy is free."

            "If I knew, I'd have stopped him."

            "No one else will have this conversation with me," Leifsdottir said.  "I’m glad we're friends."

            And somehow, in the dark and the blankets, Acxa was glad, too.


End file.
